


love with every stranger, the stranger the better

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He looks over the books in front of him and then- past them- to his laptop charging on his desk, taunting him about the two essays he’s got to start on in order to finish them both on time.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He definitely doesn’t have time for a party.</i>
</p>
<p>Or, the one where Niall drags Louis to a campus fancy dress party and Louis channels his inner Green Lantern to approach the lad he's been crushing on all year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love with every stranger, the stranger the better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sailingtheLarryship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailingtheLarryship/gifts).



> This is... nothing like the wonderful prompt I received. I don't know how this happened, it completely got away from me. I will say one thing: [this](http://styleshands.tumblr.com/post/35149345886/louis-tomlinson-superheroes-round-two-and-a) is partially to blame.
> 
> Thank you to [Theresa](http://treezrgreen.tumblr.com/), my wonderful brit picker who saved this story time and time again.
> 
> sailingtheLarryship, I hope you enjoy this! Title from Hozier.

If Louis is quite honest with himself- an act he rarely partakes in, because it never seems to end well- he would be able to admit that taking on full uni coursework and a full-time job all at once had been a bit of a bad decision on his part. He is doing well in his classes, wouldn’t be able to face his mum if he failed out, but he’s lagging at work and on the verge of being fired. His quick wit has saved his job several times already and he is only midway through term two. Everything had been simpler last year when his schedule was easier and everyone around him had wanted to party. He’d been given a bit of slack as a first year and he still isn’t used to the fact that it’s gone, now that he’s in his second.

His flat mate is even to the point where he’s ready to murder Louis, a level he didn’t know Niall could actually reach.

“Lou, if you leave your pants around the flat again I’m going to honestly lose me mind.”

Louis grimaces into his cereal bowl, having forgotten to pick up after himself from the past couple of days when Niall had gone on a boy’s trip with the LIC, a group Louis had never been able to infiltrate, no matter how hard he tried.

He smiles when Niall comes into the kitchen, relieved when the boy’s face softens and he rolls his blue eyes.

“Sorry, Nialler,” Louis said, jumping up and giving him a hug.

“Jus’ I really hate dirty pants,” Niall mumbles into his shoulder, hugging Louis tight and lifting him off his feet just a bit.

“Oi! Put me down!” Louis shrieked, though his feet were back on the ground after only a second. “I’m going to put my dirty pants all over your room, just for that.”

Niall groans, eyes closed but smiling. “So gross.”

Louis finishes his cereal with obnoxious slurping noises, making a point to be as loud as possible as he cleans the dishes that had been piling in the sink.

“Wow, it’s really true, this is the end of days,” Niall drawls with a smirk, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe and staring. Louis scoffs but understands the jab, making a mental note to do his share of the work in the future. Niall’s the first friend he made in school- a ‘luck of the draw’ random flat mate assignment that had turned into a fiercely loyal bond- and he didn’t want to make the boy regret foregoing the halls this year to rent a shady flat on the edge of campus.

“How was the weekend, anyway?” he asks.

Niall launches into a story about Bressie trying to hit on some bird, the big man failing spectacularly when she’d told him she wasn’t into muscles. He laughs when Louis suggests she should have gone home with Niall, instead and it’s Louis’ turn to chuckle when Niall reveals she, in fact, had.

“Bet Bress wasn’t too fond of that.”

Niall shrugs, pink-cheeked. “He’s taken enough from me, ‘s about time he knows what it’s like.”

Louis puts the last dish in the drying rack, wiping his sudsy hands on a dishtowel and throwing an arm around Niall’s shoulders.

“There’s a fancy dress party at a mate of Liam’s house,” Niall says. “You don’t work tonight, right?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a lot of coursework to do,” Louis starts, trying desperately to beg off but Niall isn’t having any of his talk.

“You work all the time, Lou. You’re either at the restaurant or in class or in the library, and you’re running yourself dry. You haven’t been to a party all year.”

Louis pulls a face at that, trying to slip away but Niall’s hand wraps around his waist too quickly, keeping him in place.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says.

“Being manhandled and detained?” Louis guesses, bringing his other hand up to pinch out some of Niall’s chest hair but the blonde boy is too quick for him to be successful.

“Would you get over the chest hair?” he grumbles.

“You’ve got your clavicle pubes now, Nialler, any man should be proud o’ that.”

Niall laughs, loud against his ear, but he doesn’t let Louis’ hand go. “You’re just trying to hole yourself away so you don’t let yourself go crazy.”

“Oh yeah? Did your super-hot Psychology-studying boyfriend tell you that?”

“Zayn’s not my bloody _boyfriend_ ,” Niall says with a resigned air.

“Keep telling yourself that. Doesn’t seem like a ‘just friends’ thing when you’re spending half of your holiday break with his parents instead of going back to Mullingar,” he argues, slipping his hand free to make air quotes, his other hand still on Niall’s shoulder.

“Regardless,” Niall tries again, “Zayn would say that you’re punishing yourself for having failed your A-levels by over-working yourself now to make up for it.”

“Zayn would say anything you told him to,” Louis says, successfully slipping out of Niall’s hold altogether and dashing for his room.

“We’re going to the party! Be ready at nine!”

“Eat me!” Louis calls back, slamming his door behind him and surveying the mess on his floor. He counts four pairs of worn pants he could easily hide under Niall’s covers, but he sighs instead and starts clearing the clothes off the floor. His laundry basket is soon overflowing, but it’s an improvement. He settles down on the ground next to his bed and pulls his books over to him, starting at the top and taking notes on the required reading before moving to the next textbook and then the next.

He’s got enough work to last him all night, but he finds himself mentally going through the costumes he’s got bundled in the back of his wardrobe. He doesn’t know why he cares; he isn’t going to the party because he doesn’t have time. He looks over the books in front of him and then- past them- to his laptop charging on his desk, taunting him about the two essays he’s got to start on in order to finish them both on time.

He definitely doesn’t have time for a party.

~*~

Hours later, he’s still maintaining that he doesn’t have time for a party, but he’s somehow still dressed in his favorite costume ever, a spandex Green Lantern outfit with a green mask that covers his nose and forehead. It fits snug enough that Niall teases him the whole walk there about the amount of attention his arse will get, but Louis just smiles and skips ahead.

“When’s the last time you pulled anyway?” Niall asks as he jogs up to him, tugging his uninspired toga costume back up and onto his shoulder.

“None of your business,” he sings, slowing down to let Niall fall into step with him.

“I don’t think you did over the summer either. Maybe _that’s_ why you’re so on edge.”

“‘M not on edge, _Neil_ ,” Louis bites out, flashing his teeth in a pseudo-snarl. Niall hisses and laughs, messing with Louis’ hair.

“You’re _completely_ on edge,” he contradicts, laughing when Louis reaches a hand up to fix the damage Niall had surely done to his fringe. “Zayn would say-”

“Oh, Christ on a _cracker_ , I’m going to actually be on edge if you bring up your boyfriend again. I’ll throw myself _over_ the edge.”

“You like Zayn,” Niall pouts.

“I _liked_ Zayn. Past tense. He used to be cool but now he spends ninety percent of his time making soft eyes at you and you two creep me out completely.”

“I’d say I’m offended but I’m honestly not, I’m quite pleased with my lot in life.”

Louis gags but can’t stop himself from smiling when they come around the corner and see the party in full swing. It’s nowhere near movie-levels, but there’s a steady bass beat drifting across the front lawn and the sounds of laughter coming from the back of the house.

Zayn’s smoking on the front steps when they come up, standing and pressing a kiss to Niall’s mouth.

“Thief!” Louis cries out, pointing at the ‘T-Birds’ jacket Zayn’s sporting.

He pulls back from Niall with a frown, looking down at himself and back up with a grin. “Sorry mate,” he shrugs. “Forgot where this came from.”

“Thief,” Louis repeats, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a grin completely without his permission. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he pouts.

Niall howls with laughter, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s chest from behind and tucking his chin over his shoulder. They shuffle inside, waving to Liam in the make-shift DJ corner, a wide smile on his face as he mashes ‘Wonderwall’ with Jay-Z.

Niall detaches himself from Zayn easily enough once they get to the kitchen, people in the room clearing space for him in front of the drinks and watching him start to make mixes.

“Everyone gets their choice of colour, but you can’t ask what’s in it,” he calls out.

Louis and Zayn chorus ‘green’ at the same time, smiling wide when Niall winks at them and starts their drinks first. They take them with identical smiles, sipping and calling out their compliments as they make their way out the back of the house. There’s a couple of idiots in an oversized paddling pool despite the cool spring evening, and Zayn leads him off to the side with hardly any convincing, flashing a joint long enough to keep Louis’ interests.

It’s chilly where they settle, on the very edge of the party, and they pass the joint back-and-forth until it’s gone, Zayn stubbing it out and pocketing it with a soft smile.

“Hey,” Zayn says after another minute of silence, the first words they’d spoken since they left Niall inside.

“Hey,” Louis says back, nudging his knee with the tips of his toes.

“Isn’t that the curly lad you like?”

Louis swears and ducks out of instinct, looking over and seeing him. He’s wearing all black tonight, a hat and cape thrown over his trousers and possible t-shirt. He’s wearing a mask similar to Louis’ but his curls would give him away anywhere. Louis lets out a breath that is embarrassingly close to a sigh, Zayn giggling next to him.

“Go say ‘hi’ to him,” he prompts.

Louis rolls his eyes and scoffs, ducking further behind Zayn when he sits up straighter.

“Seriously, Lou.”

“I’m not going to talk to Harry _fucking_ Styles in a Green Lantern costume.”

“Why not? Your arse looks fantastic in it.”

While that’s clearly the truth, Louis still shakes his head. Zayn’s facing forward and doesn’t see him, but he can probably feel the movement where Louis’ forehead is pressed between his shoulder blades.

“Not drunk enough for this,” he mutters.

“Harry clearly is,” Zayn points out, and Louis’ interested enough by that to peek over Zayn’s shoulder.

Harry’s always been a bit pigeon-toed from what Louis could see, but it’s even worse now. He’s walking along the side of the pool in their general direction, talking to someone next to him and stumbling a bit over his own feet.

Louis smiles, charmed despite himself, and presses his grin to Zayn’s shoulder.

“You’re smitten,” Zayn states simply as if it were a fact.

“Am not,” Louis argues, though he really, really is.

“Nothing wrong with it,” Zayn says, leaning to the side enough to dislodge Louis from where he’s curled against his back and sending him sprawling on the ground. He skins the pad of his hand and pouts up at Zayn.

“ _You’re_ smitten,” he accuses.

“Of course I am.”

And, well, when he puts it that way, Louis doesn’t know what to say. “Why haven’t you told Niall you guys are dating?”

Zayn shrugs, dopey grin on his face at the mention of Niall’s name. “He’ll figure it out.”

Harry laughs behind them, loud and deep, and Louis’ eyes practically cross in an effort to not turn and look. Zayn sees and starts laughing along with him.

“Hey mate!” Zayn calls out, lifting his hand. Louis whips his head around, not believing it when Harry waves back, over-excited.

“You know him?” he hisses as he turns back around.

“He’s one of the students in Liam’s halls and he comes to all of these parties. Man, you really don’t get out anymore, do you?”

“Fucking traitor,” Louis curses, standing up and brushing off his costume. He really hopes he hasn’t torn any of it, and he checks quickly but all seems to be in order.

“He’s coming over,” Zayn warns, grinning big.

“What?” Louis gasps, looking over again. Harry’s turned away, not anywhere near them, and Louis wants to smack the smile off of Zayn’s smug face but then Niall would be _really_ pissed off with him.

“Your _face_ , that’s amazing.”

Louis skulks off, storming into the kitchen and crashing into Niall’s back. The crowd around him has thinned, everyone off enjoying their mystery drinks, and Louis mumbles ‘red’ against Niall’s bare shoulder.

“You’re awfully cuddly,” Niall notes, shifting slowly so Louis can shuffle with him as he makes two drinks. He hands one to Louis when he’s finished and takes the other for himself.

“Your boyfriend’s mean to me,” he says after he’s downed half of the cup in a few quick pulls.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Niall reminds.

“Whatever you guys keep telling yourselves.” Louis hums for a bit, near-dozing from the weed and the alcohol warm in his system. Niall takes makes a couple more drinks when some girls walk in, but a deep Northern accent startles Louis and he stiffens behind Niall’s back.

“Someone said to come in here and ask for Niall?”

Louis lets go of Niall slowly and looks up at Harry, the curly lad looking between the two of them with an easy grin.

Niall waves one hand over the assorted half-empty bottles on the worktop. “Pick a colour, any colour, one colour will do,” he says in a decent impression of an American game show host.

Harry giggles, actually _giggles_ at that, and he steps forward, eyes wide behind his mask. Niall shifts as well, and suddenly Louis has absolutely no cover at all, and Harry won’t stop looking at him.

“What?” he squeaks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ve a sudden interest in green,” Harry says, speaking slowly. He looks back at Niall briefly. “Can I pick green?”

“You can have any colour you’d like, mate.”

Niall sets about making up the drink, seemingly ignoring the way Harry’s eyes go right back to Louis, though Louis _knows_ he’s watching this and is saving up things to tease him about.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he says, striding forward and holding out his hand.

“I know who you are,” Louis snaps, and boy did he not think he’d actually be mean to the boy he’s been crushing on since they shared a lecture hall the year before.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind the cool reception, letting his hand fall but leaning his hip against the worktop in front of Louis. “I don’t think I know you.”

“You don’t.”

“That hardly seems fair,” Harry grins, eyes bright and teeth even as his smile grows wider when Louis frowns. “You know me but I don’t know you.”

“Drink’s up,” Niall says, sliding the cup forward. Harry takes it with a ‘thank you’ and offers it to Louis.

“Want to try?”

Louis narrows his eyes but takes the cup, sniffing it before taking a cautious sip. It tastes just like jelly beans and he takes another sip, handing it back to Harry reluctantly.

Harry’s drunk already, eyes glassy and movements a little sloppy when he brings the cup to his lips. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he’s done, setting it on the counter and continuing to look at Louis expectantly.

“What?” Louis snaps again. He’s vaguely aware of Niall leaving the room, and he makes a mental note to really put his pants in Niall’s bed this time.

Harry laughs, just a soft chuckle that Louis immediately hates and loves all at once. “You’re cute, what’s your name?”

“I’m nobody,” Louis says, letting his shoulders drop.

Harry’s lips turn down at that, and he shifts closer still. “You’re not ‘nobody’.”

And it’s just truly remarkable, Louis thinks, that Harry Styles is actually an attractive drunk, his long hair brushed back from his face and curling softly where it rests against his shoulders. His face is red and sweetly sincere, smiling when Louis meets his eye again.

“Hi,” he says, giggling a little in a way that’s entirely too endearing.

Louis doesn’t say anything and Harry doesn’t stop smiling, lifting his drink in a mock salute before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Louis takes his first deep breath since Harry has walked into the kitchen, immediately hating himself for being such a complete arse. He leaves his drink behind and rushes out of the room, trying to catch up to Harry, but he’s already gone, the other party guests pressing past him to get to the alcohol.

“Fuck, fuck,” he repeats to himself under his breath, muttering as he pushes his way outside and finds Zayn and Niall, this time joined by Liam.

“Hey mate,” Louis says as he sidles up to them, wedging his way under Liam’s proffered arm. “You sounded sick up there earlier.”

“Thanks!” Liam beams, tucking Louis in closer.

Niall’s lips are bright red, as if he’s been biting them near raw. He’s facing Louis with wide eyes, clearly dying to say something.

“It’s nothing,” Louis says quickly, trying to fend it off.

“What’s nothing?” Zayn asks, looking between the two of them suspiciously. “What’d I miss?”

Niall gnaws at his lip again, confirming what Louis had been suspecting. He looks at Zayn hesitantly before turning back to Louis. “We were in the kitchen and-”

“And we kissed!” Louis interrupts, eyes narrow and lips pursed. “Yeah, Zayn, sorry. We can’t hide our love anymore.”

Zayn laughs at him, the fucker, doesn’t seem to believe him for even a second. He wraps an arm around Niall’s waist, pulling him closer and brushing his lips to his temple. “What happened for real, though?”

“Harry Styles.”

“Harry ‘happened’?” Liam asks, clearly confused. Louis understands the confusion: Liam has never seen Louis when Harry’s around, he can hardly be expected to know about Louis’ Thing with a capital ‘T’ for his friend.

Zayn’s laughing again, or maybe he never stopped, and Niall’s giggling as well. The two of them are turned into each other, sickeningly sweet, and Louis regrets not smacking Zayn earlier when he’d had the urge. Their mirth is causing Liam to chuckle as well, and Louis pulls away.

“You’re all rude and awful and I don’t like any of you,” Louis snarks.

“There’s Harry now, I can call him over if you’d like?” Liam asks, smile strange. It takes all of Louis’ self-control to not fling himself behind Liam and hide behind his broad shoulders- a much better hiding place than behind Zayn’s beanpole frame- but he’s also distracted trying to place the weird way Liam’s mouth is stretched. It dawns on him that Liam’s _smirking_ , that he’s mocking him, more aware than he had let on. There’s delight in his eyes as he challenges Louis, and Louis can’t help the rush of pride he feels.

“Liam Payne, I’ve created a monster,” he declares.

“Maybe, but Harry really is over there.”

Louis follows the line of Liam’s outstretched finger, watching as Harry leaves a small group of girls and makes his way along the edge of the pool, heading away.

“I can call him over,” Liam offers again, sly grin still affixed to his face.

“Louis near pissed himself when he came in earlier,” Niall teases. “Not sure he could handle it again.”

“Is that a challenge?” Zayn prompts.

“Oi, you can’t issue a challenge on my behalf!” Louis objects.

Ignoring him, Niall continues. “I wouldn’t waste a challenge on such a lost cause.”

Louis knows they’re trying to rile him up but he tells himself he doesn’t care. Zayn knows him better than that, though, and he leaves Niall side and throws an arm around Louis’ shoulders instead, murmuring into his ear.

“Not gonna take that, are you Tommo?”

“Piss off,” Louis says, no heat behind it. He looks past Zayn at Harry, who has stopped with another group and is telling a long tale, drink in one hand while the other makes large, swooping gestures.

“Go talk to him,” he says louder so the others can hear.

“Harry’s nice,” Liam offers.

Niall tries to help as well. “You look great, Lou. Your arse is fucking _ace_ in that suit.”

Louis rolls his eyes and hopes his mask is enough to hide his flush. “Let it rest, I’m _not_ talking to him. I was a complete dick to him earlier.”

“Just sashay a bit when you walk past him, he likes bums.”

Louis turns to Liam, shocked again. “I really _have_ ruined you, Payno.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he says. “You’re not going to distract me now that I know you’re hard up for Harry.”

Zayn makes an interested sound. “I’m gonna tattoo that across your forehead,” he jokes.

Louis smacks away his hand when he traces a finger across his brow. “Shut _up_ ,” he hisses.

“I’m doing it,” Liam mutters, stepping away from them just a bit and raising his voice. “Hey, Haz, come here!”

Louis chokes on air when he hears him, whipping around and seeing Harry look over at them and smile, holding up a finger as he says his goodbyes to his group.

“I’m going to pinch your nipple _off_ ,” Louis snarls, lunging for Liam. Liam just dodges him and laughs hysterically, Niall and Zayn following suit.

Liam’s fast and Louis could chase him for days and never catch him, so he stops after only a couple seconds. He checks over his shoulder and Harry’s just pulling away from a hug and stepping in their direction. Making the snap decision to face him alone rather than in front of his now-ex best friends, Louis hurries away. Harry smiles when he notices him approaching, side-stepping a couple and wobbling near the edge of the pool as if he’s about to fall over the plastic edge and into the calf-deep water.

He tries to correct his stance but he’s so drunk and he can’t, over-correcting and tripping over his own feet. Louis dashes the last bit of distance between them, grabbing Harry’s cape in one hand and his waist in the other, and hauling him upright before he can go into the water.

Harry stumbles and giggles, falling into Louis almost enough to knock him to the ground, but he keeps his footing and bears Harry’s weight.

“You’re an oaf,” Louis grunts, moving his hands to Harry’s biceps and pushing him into a standing position again.

“And you’re my hero,” Harry jokes, batting his eyelashes.

Louis barely resists rolling his eyes, smiling a bit at Harry’s cheekiness. “Let’s go sit before you take us both down.”

Harry follows him easily to the edge of the back deck, sitting down next to him. Louis pulls a leg up to his chest and rests his cheek against his knee, watching Harry settle himself, adjusting when he sits on his cape. Louis giggles a little, charmed by the scowl on Harry’s face when he decides to just whip it off.

“Laughing at me?” Harry asks, dimpling at him when he looks over.

Louis shakes his head just a little, restricted by the fact that he doesn’t want to lift his face.

“I wish you would have told me this wasn’t a costume,” Harry teases, tugging at the sleeve of Louis’ spandex costume and pulling it away just a bit.

“Wasn’t expecting to have to reveal myself,” Louis drawls.

Harry raises an eyebrow, smirking. “We’re at the ‘reveal’ stage of the evening already?”

Louis flushes way past the edges of his mask, feeling the heat creep down his neck. He can’t help the stuttered breath he takes at Harry’s flirtatious tone, and he tries to calm his nerves. He’s just saved Harry from certain death- or, at least, a certain soaking- and he’s clearly caught Harry’s attention on a physical level. He doesn’t have any reason to be nervous, he’s already hooked him.

“We’ll have to work our way up to that,” Louis manages, the delivery a little too soft for his liking but Harry’s smile widens regardless.

“I’m a hard worker.”

He didn’t just make the world’s _worst_ pun, did he? Louis rolls his eyes and makes a gagging sound. “That was awful.”

“Oh come on, it was funny.”

“Not even a little.”

For some reason, he seems delighted by Louis being difficult. “You’re no fun,” he says, his words slow.

“Your smile says otherwise.”

“I’m just thinking of more jokes. I’ve got someone to impress now. Even if he thinks he’s nobody.”

Louis’ charmed, just as he always suspected he’d be with Harry.

“Your eyes are really blue,” Harry says, and the shift in conversation has Louis’ drunk and still-high mind reeling.

“You’re drunk,” he says, feeling out of his depth and floundering, not wanting to turn nasty again like he had earlier.

“I am definitely not sober,” Harry agrees, scooting a little closer.

It’s not enough to touch, but Louis still imagines he can feel the heat from Harry’s thigh where it’s so near his own. He’s quiet too long, the pot hitting him on delay. Harry, clearly impatient, speaks again.

“You don’t have a ring?”

“What?”

Harry nods at Louis’ hands where they’re clasped together on top of his knee. “The Green Lanterns always wear their rings.”

Louis lifts his cheek and looks at his hands. “Oh,” he replies stupidly. “I must have forgotten it at home.”

“We should go there and look for it,” Harry giggles, finally swaying close enough that he presses along Louis’ side. He mistakes Louis’ panic for disgust, and he pulls back. “Sorry, I’m a slag when I drink.”

“No,” Louis says quickly, before he loses his nerve. “You’re not. I’m just… it’s just that…” he trails off, biting the inside of his cheek and looking away.

“Just what?” Harry asks, curious. He reaches behind his own head and pulls off the mask with delicate fingers, left in a t-shirt and black jeans and boots. He’s got the faintest of creases near his temple from the ties and Louis reaches a hand out before he lets himself think about it. Harry isn’t smiling anymore, but there’s an upturn at the corners of his mouth and Louis thinks it’s kind of the same thing. He pulls his hand away, stretching out his legs and resting both hands in his lap.

“ _The dark things cannot stand the light,_ ” he recites inanely, turning and looking over his shoulder, unsurprised when his friends are still staring over at him, mostly encouraging expressions when they see him looking, though Zayn shoves his tongue to the inside of his cheek and smirks after.

“Am I a dark thing?” Harry asks, looking at him when he turns back around.

Louis is startled into laughing at that, pressing a hand high on his stomach and feeling the way his body shakes with it. “You’re the light, if we’re assigning roles. I just couldn’t think of anything to say but the bloody oath.”

Harry beams, visibly relaxing again.

“You’re funny.”

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“I know, but I can tell you’re funny anyway.”

Louis shakes his head. He can’t keep track of the turns in the conversation but he almost wants to go with each one and see where it leads. He sees how Harry is still swaying a bit, though, and he pushes himself up, holding out a hand to help Harry to his feet as well. “Let’s go find something for you to eat, Styles. You need to sober up.”

Like a puppy, Harry follows Louis into the house again, wobbling a bit as he steps down into the kitchen but maintaining his footing. Louis heads straight to the crisps cupboard, pulling out two bags of _Walkers_.

“Roast Chicken or Prawn Cocktail?” he asks. Harry points to the orange bag and Louis tosses the pink back where it had been, banging the cupboard door shut and hopping up on the counter.

He pats the spot next to him and definitely does _not_ watch Harry’s biceps flex under the cut of his t-shirt as he pushes himself up. Definitely doesn’t. Nope. If he forgets what they’re doing and almost drops the crisps, well, that’s just a coincidence.

Gathering his wits, he shoves the bag into Harry’s hands and watches him open them, pulling out a handful before tossing them back. Louis watches him eat for a moment, smiling at the quirky way Harry sticks his tongue out before taking in a chip, chewing carefully and swallowing each one. More impatient, Louis pulls out a few at a time and shoves them in his mouth, regretting the mess on his hands when he remembers to not wipe them on the spandex costume.

“Want a napkin?” Harry offers, already twisting at the waist and pulling one from a stack in the corner of the counter. Louis accepts it with another grin, tucking it between his thighs as he pulls out another half-handful.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” Harry asks.

Louis pretends to consider it. “Hal,” he offers after he’s finished chewing.

“Would your last name happen to be Jordan?” Harry asks with a grin, leaning forward.

Louis fights the urge he has to duck away, deciding to go with it instead. He closes the distance between them, closing his eyes as his lips press against Harry’s.

Instead of fireworks or warmth, it’s the most awkward kiss he’s ever had, including when he was nine and playing spin the bottle at a birthday party. He pushes just a bit closer, applying a little more pressure, but then he hears the crinkle of a bag and pulls away, confused. Harry has a hand outstretched over Louis’ lap, fingers grazing the edge of the bag of crisps, and realization floods over Louis like a wave.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes out, jerking his head back and bumping the cupboard behind him. “Sorry,” he rushes to say before Harry can take off and think he’s a nutter, “I thought you were... wanted to, you know…”

“Oh,” Harry says, straightening up and leaving the crisps bag alone.

Louis distracts himself from his abject humiliation by closing his eyes and breathing deep, listing all of the things he’d rather be doing right now than sitting in front of Harry. So far the top contenders are: shoving bamboo sticks under his fingernails, stabbing pencils through his eyelids, shooting an arrow through his own foot and drinking soup out of a footie player’s cleats. He’s trying to number the list from most possible to least, when a hand on his jaw startles him, and he opens his eyes.

Harry’s smiling at him, thumb brushing against the heat of Louis’ cheek. “I definitely want to kiss you,” he says, eyes sincere and so, so green.

“Oh,” Louis repeats.

Harry’s thumb keeps its touch consistent as he tilts Louis’ jaw up and leans in again, inhaling gently against Louis’ lips before pressing them together.

Louis finds the fireworks this time, tilting his head automatically to better the angle. Both of Harry’s hands reach up to cup Louis’ cheeks, warm fingers and warm rings feeling cold against his over-heated cheeks.

At some point in the kiss, they shift from the counter, pressing against it for a couple long minutes until they grab a bottle of something clear and head up the stairs to one of the unoccupied bedrooms. They crash on the bed and pass the bottle between themselves until they’ve made a clear dent in the alcohol. Harry wobbles as he puts it on a nightstand, flopping heavily in the middle of the bed. Louis curls into Harry’s side.

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry says, voice slow and hoarse.

“Troubling news,” Louis says sagely, impressive until his jaw cracks around a yawn.

Harry uses the arm he has over Louis’ shoulder to pull him in tighter and nip teasingly at the tip of his nose before he catches the yawn himself. “Be nice. No, what I was going to say is you can’t be the Green Lantern if you don’t have a ring. So you should let me take your mask off.”

Louis pauses. He’s enjoying every single touch they share, but he knows Harry’s type: first years with no other goal than getting off with as many people as possible. Louis _should_ know, that’s how he was a year ago. “I’m horribly disfigured?” he tries.

“I really only like you for your bum anyway,” Harry rejoins easily.

“I’m a wanted criminal.”

“Mmm, no. I saw you hanging out with Liam earlier, he’s got good taste in mates.”

Louis bites his lip, out of ideas of things to say. Harry just smiles and nods once, accepting that the mask is staying for now. He kisses Louis again briefly before, once more, pulling away.

“I’ve thought of a way to fix our problem.”

Intrigued, Louis props himself on his elbow to look Harry over. “Oh yeah? What problem do we have?”

“The ring, of course.”

“Oh,” Louis says, looking at his bare hand. “I’m sure it’s somewhere.”

“In the meantime,” Harry says, bringing his arm away from Louis’ shoulders and fiddling with his own hands. He pulls off a ring and grabs the hand not holding Louis’ weight. He slips it over Louis’ middle finger, thumbing the old-timey signet impression.

“Looks kind of like it,” Louis concedes. “Except for not being green.”

“Limited supplies,” Harry says, palming Louis’ waist and pulling him in close for a bit of a snog. Louis pulls Harry on top, rocking his hips up in sweet little teasing brushes, interlocking his fingers behind Harry’s curly head and running his fingers of his left hand along the edge of the ring on his right.

“What powers does your ring have?” he laughs low when Harry pulls back, nuzzling at the hollow of Louis’ throat. Louis can’t bite back another yawn but he hopes Harry doesn’t notice.

“Thought that had to do with your own willpower?” Harry says, nipping his teeth gently against his skin.

“I’m not sure if I have any now,” Louis admits. “I’m a bit preoccupied.”

Harry giggles slow and pulls back, laying on his back next to Louis again.

They are both quiet for a minute, Louis still fiddling with the ring. Harry breaks the silence first. “If you won’t tell me your name, tell me a secret instead.”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

“Everyone does,” Harry says, turning onto his side. “There’s something in there you’ve never told anyone.”

Louis bites his lip, contemplating. He’s been dying to say something specific, actually, but he doesn’t know how to say it out loud. Taking a breath, he stays on his back and closes his eyes. “I think I made a mistake studying medicine,” he whispers. “I am holding onto my current job with the skin of my fingertips. I’m a mess, honestly.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a minute, but he does rest a hand on Louis’ chest, fingers dragging along the edge of his sternum. When he does speak, he prefaces it with a kiss to Louis’ jaw. “I think you’re overworked and tired,” he starts, which is far from promising, and Louis scowls before Harry continues. “No, listen. You need more nights like tonight; you need to blow off steam.”

“That simple, huh?” Louis laughs, shifting down the bed further and turning to his side as well, facing Harry and catching him in a yawn, following suit a second later.

“I could help, if you’d like?” Harry offers, pulling Louis closer.

“I think I know the way you want to help, Styles.”

Harry doesn’t deny it, just murmurs something low in Louis’ ear and tucks him into his chest. Louis means to tell him he’s got to get home- or at least text Niall- but he’s asleep too quickly to worry about it.

~*~

He’s only out for about an hour at most, the faint sounds of the party still floating through the floor, but Harry’s gone and the bed next to him is cool to the touch. Louis gets up, wiping at his eyes before realizing he’s still wearing the mask. He unties it with one hand, brushing his fringe from his face distractedly.

It takes him a moment to get moving, stopping for a wee before making his way down the stairs. He sees most of the guests are gone, just a couple of small groups huddled together. The music is softer as well. Louis only spends a moment looking for his friends, Niall’s shocking blonde hair a pretty contrast to Zayn’s where they’re cuddled up together in the corner of a sofa. Zayn’s asleep but Niall isn’t, smiling when Louis comes up to them.

“We saw curly come down a little bit ago, you slag. Said he had to get home.”

Louis smiles and rolls his eyes. “We snogged a bit, that’s all. Talked a little.”

“Mate, you’re wearing _that_ ,” Niall says, waving a hand, “and you’re trying to tell me you and Harry didn’t…”

Louis just shakes his head. “I swear on me life, Niall.”

“When are you seeing him again?”

Louis walks away, pretending he hadn’t heard the question.

He hears rustling behind him, and there’s a warm, sleepy weight against his back. “ _Lou_ ,” Zayn says, an arm around Louis’ chest.

“Gosh, mate, get high with you once and you get clingy as fuck.”

Zayn laughs, blowing out a breath on the nape of Louis’ neck. “You get high with me a lot, arse.”

It’s not a lie, so Louis doesn’t say anything at all.

“Ni says you’re not looking to see Harry again?”

Louis hears Niall come up as well, and he tries to ignore the part of him that gets snappy at their questions. “I don’t have time to date anyone right now, anyway. I’ve got school and work and you fuckers to take care of.”

Niall makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort but Louis graciously lets it pass.

“ _Loueeee_ ,” Zayn whines, letting Louis pull away but following him still. “This could be true love or sommat, don’t you think you should see him without the mask on?”

“Like you’re one to talk about true love?” Louis sneers, past crabby and past tired and past even drunk. He pours water from the tap and takes a sip, trying to keep his words at bay.

“Why can’t I give my mate advice?” Zayn asks, leaning against the worktop next to him. Louis sees Niall out of the corner of his eye, taking up a similar stance behind him.

“You want to talk advice _mate_?” Louis says, turning around and setting his cup on the edge of the countertop. “Here’s some of mine: stop stringing Niall along. Don’t play stupid bloody games with him. If you honestly don’t think you two are boyfriends, then I don’t want to hear your opinion on what I should do.”

“Lou,” Niall cautions, “that’s none of your business what Zayn and I do.”

The music isn’t loud enough to cover Louis’ near shout. “Then it’s none of bloody _yours_ what I do with my own life.”

He doesn’t risk looking at Zayn, knowing he’s pushing things too far. He fixes his gaze on Niall, instead, the two of them having been through worse than this. As expected, Niall seems shocked but schools his features after a moment and nods.

“Alright,” he says, shrugging and stepping closer to Zayn, off to Louis’ side. “We won’t bother you about it anymore.”

Louis bites his lip, getting what he wanted but still feeling like shit. He pushes off from the counter and steps away from them, heading through the oversized house and out the door. He takes off down the street, feet tracing the steps to the flat he and Niall share. He feels ridiculous in his costume now, but there’s no one around and it’s dark enough.

If he’s sniffling when he takes it off and bundles it under his bed, slipping into the welcome relief of loose joggers and one of Niall’s sleeveless vests, then he’s just going to blame it on allergies and ignore the fact that he’s probably never going to speak to Harry Styles again.

~*~

Niall’s not there the next morning when Louis drags himself out of bed and gets ready for work, showering quickly before the hot water runs out. He skips breakfast and heads out his door, unlocking his bike from the building’s provided rack and pedaling to the restaurant.

He’s early, which shocks and delights his manager, and she even slips him a couple of scrambled eggs before she has him start cleaning the tables.

It’s mindless work, his arms pleasantly sore by the time he’s finished the last three tables in the corner nearest the door. He stands up straight and cracks his neck, raising his hand to rub over the muscle of his shoulder. He startles when he feels metal on his hand, having forgotten the ring he was still wearing. He studies it for a moment, the fingers of his free hand tracing along the edge of the design.

If only he was an actual superhero and could get some use out of it. Making a mental note to give it to Liam for its safe return, he leaves it on his hand and heads back into the kitchen.

“You mind doing front of house today?” his manager asks, smiling pleasantly.

Louis stops in his tracks and stares at her. He’s been banned from serving for two weeks now, having mouthed off to a table of freshers when they’d started a food fight during a busy rush.

“Absolutely!” he says, already envisioning the tips he’ll receive. He’s normally pleasant- when the table isn’t full of over privileged, oversized children- and their pizza joint is right in the heart of the town centre so they’re always busy. It’s a combination that usually helps him out of tight situations, and he practically salivates at the thought of being able to pay his half of the rent and potentially have some left over for school supplies and maybe the name-brand body wash. His skin’s sick of the generic crap.

He finishes helping the cooks prep, chopping veg and singing along with the radio. He’s in great spirits by the time the doors open, changing into a clean shirt in the back before he meets the other waiter on shift up front. Eleanor’s pleasant and a great worker, and they deal with the lunch rush in their area efficiently, Sophia and Liam manning the bar area and patio section.

He has a moment of down time just past noon, Monday classes just letting out. He’ll get swarmed in a few minutes, but he heads to the bar and grabs a stool, charming Liam into making him a peach iced tea before the craziness starts. He accepts it with a grin and a wink, Liam smiling back so hard his eyes crinkle.

Sophia comes up just then, sticking her tongue out at Louis over Liam’s shoulder and he finally feels himself relax entirely, the leftover tension from the day before easing its way from his shoulders. He and Niall have fought about more important things than each other’s love lives, and Zayn will forgive him for his snark. Eventually.

He feels the metal of Harry’s ring get cold from the condensation on the glass, and he looks down at it for a second when Liam turns to help a customer. He should give it back now, it’s the perfect opportunity, but he makes a fist instead and pushes the empty glass away.

“Thanks Li,” he calls over his shoulder, throwing a wink Sophia’s way as he passes her coming out from the kitchen.

“Not gonna work on me, Tommo. I’m immune to your charms,” she teases as he turns to walk backward so he can look at her.

“No one’s immune,” he giggles, making to turn and face the front again but he collides with a solid mass instead, hands reaching out to steady himself.

He laughs and blows air at his fringe to get it out of his eyes, lifting a hand when he’s steady and brushing it back. “Sorry about that, wasn’t watching where I was going,” he starts.

“S’alright, superhero. My turn to save you.”

Louis gulps, eyes wide as finally looks up and sees Harry standing in front of him.

“Hi,” he says inanely, brain fried.

“Hi,” Harry responds, smile wide. Harry looks down briefly, a hand coming up to finger gently at the edge of Louis’ nametag. “Seems a bit like cheating, for me to find out this way.”

“How did you… you don’t ever come here,” he says.

“I don’t know, a guy named Zayn came up to me and told me to go see Liam at work, said I had to talk to him about something urgent.”

Louis smiles tightly, teeth sharp against his bottom lip. “I’m gonna kill him,” he says, voice sweet.

Harry just laughs, deep and loud. Louis startles when Eleanor comes up to them.

“You just got let back up here,” she mutters, tilting her head towards the kitchen where their manager is undoubtedly stood watching him. “Maybe seat this one and you can talk when you take his order.”

“Yeah, is that- do you have time?” Louis asks, stepping back from Harry just a bit. There are a couple groups waiting already, Eleanor turning a smile on for them and leading one away.

“I’ve got time, I don’t have any lectures until 2.”

Louis points at a table in his section, watching Harry walk away. He steps up to the next group of guests and smiles wide.

“Sorry for that wait,” he says, instantly soothing some rattled nerves. “Four?” he asks, grabbing enough menus plus one to drop off for Harry.

~*~

It’s almost one-thirty when Louis gets another chance to stop at Harry’s table for more than a quick check-in.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting,” he starts, tidying the table as slow as he can. There’s only one group in his section and he’s just dropped off their food, so he has a moment to spare before he needs to check in with them.

“S’alright,” Harry says, pocketing his mobile. “Can you talk now?”

Louis shakes his head, picking up a fork between two of his fingers and setting it back down on the other side of the plate, motions slow. “I really can’t, I need this job. I thought it’d slow down, Mondays aren’t typically this busy. I’m so sorry. Lunch is on me, of course.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry says, shifting in his seat and pulling his wallet out. He hands Louis a card, obnoxiously brushing their fingers together. Louis feels his cheeks heat but he rolls his eyes at Harry’s obvious move, taking the card and stopping by his table. He takes their refill order and heads to the bar, ringing up Harry’s food but removing the price of his drink- some gross organic juice mix Liam had been thrilled to look up a recipe for. He takes the two receipts that print out and the card, grabbing a tray of refills from Liam and heading back into his section.

He drops the drinks off, checking if there’s anything else they need before heading to Harry again. “Here you go, one copy for you and one for me,” he says, placing the cheque and card before him, slipping a pen from his pocket. “Don’t leave a tip.”

Harry looks up at him, brows furrowed in confusion and pen in hand. “What?”

“I’ve a rule, see: no one is allowed to tip if their tongue’s been in my mouth. Makes it weird.”

Giggling at that, Harry nods his head. “Okay, I can respect that rule. I’m good with boundaries.”

“I’ll bet,” Louis says dryly. He lifts the plates from the table, looking at Harry again. “Thanks for coming in and sticking around. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to actually talk at all.”

“I enjoyed it, Eleanor’s been really nice and I would have just walked home for a bit before I had to come back here for my next class, so it worked out for me.”

“Plus, there’s me,” Louis jokes, trying to fake the bravado that normally comes effortless to him.

Harry beams, cheek dimpling. “That goes without saying, Louis.”

It’s the first time Harry’s said his name out loud and it sends a thrill up his spine for some inane reason he doesn’t have time to process. He walks away before he can say something dumb about how deep his crush really is, and lurks in the kitchen, watching Harry at his table. He seems to be waiting for Louis, but then he checks his watch and must realize how close it is to his class, because he rushes out of the restaurant, faster than Louis has seen him move before.

With a sigh of relief, he leaves his sanctuary and stops at Liam’s station long enough to print his final table’s bill, his replacement already starting to seat new parties. He gets to the table Harry had left, picking up the receipt and smiling when he sees scribbled words on the left-behind customer copy. He grabs it and reads it right there in the middle of the floor, Harry’s writing neat and narrow.

_My ring looks nice on you. Call me when you want to meet up, superhero._

Louis looks at the digits under the words, careful not to smudge them as he folds the note and pockets it. Once his last table is settled, he heads into the back office by the row of lockers, shrugging on his light jacket and grabbing his bag.

“I’m off to class,” he tells his manager, sticking his head in the door. “Need me to pick up any shifts later?”

She looks at the schedule and shrugs. “We could use another runner tonight if you want. You can study in here when you’re not helping.”

“You’re too good to me,” he says, ducking out of her office and walking out the door. He texts Niall _tell your boyfriend I hate and love him !!_ before he grabs the note in his pocket. He carefully adds Harry’s contact info and saves it, pulling up a new message.

_when I’m not rescuing baby giraffes from near drowning when they’re drunk,_ he types out _, I wouldn’t mind getting together for a movie . you in ?_

_Am i the baby giraffe?_ Harry types back a few minutes later, Louis checking it as he locks his bike outside of his lecture hall. _i didn’t nearly drown_

_you most definitely did, I saved your life_

_i was distracted by your bum_

Snorting a laugh, Louis shoulders his bag and heads inside the building, getting his favorite spot near the front and setting out his book and notepads. _You couldn’t see my bum yet_

Harry doesn’t respond until a couple minutes before class begins, Louis checking his mobile quickly.

_i’d been watching you all night_ , Harry had sent _, wondering who liam’s fit friend was._

And then, after a second, _are you free tonight?_

_Eager, Haz?_

_i just want my ring back_

Louis bites his cheek to not laugh, turning his mobile to silent and sending one last message with his address and a time he’ll be off work and showered. He doesn’t look to see if Harry texts back, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. He hopes he sees him again tonight, though, thinking he might be able to make a little room in his life for a few dates here and there.

It might get his friends off his back, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say [hi](http://sa-voix.tumblr.com).


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